


'Ari

by Harif



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Declarations Of Love, Gay Love, Gay Male Character, Gay Marriage, LGBTQ Character, Love, Loyalty, M/M, Past Abuse, darth malgus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harif/pseuds/Harif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Ari (Lord in the Sith tongue) is a story about Lord Cytharat. Its starts where the storyline ends the possibility to continue your relationship with him. </p><p>Since I've been in love with him from the first second I saw him, and since I do think he's not only being unjustly treated by the empire, but also by the whole of the SW:TOR community, I take it upon myself to try and change this.</p><p>Also, I need to get him out of my system before I can even consider going on writing about my other adventures in other expansions</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kûsk (to dream)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge spoiler for Makeb storyline, especially for Imperial male characters.  
> ***  
> Only the first chapter follows the Makeb-storyline closely, the other five chapters are one love story in five parts.  
> ***  
> One of my Sith Inquisitors (Mal'an, sorcerer), is a Cytharat lookalike, I even managed to find armour that is almost (not 100% but close), the same as Cytharat wears. It feels great running around like him, I honour him :)

It all started when the backup team arrived. They seemed to be a very competent small group of four people, their leader, Katha Niar, very much to the point, no-nonsense, which was a relief after all the clouded and hidden subtleties that surrounded this mission. They set to work the second they entered the room.

The most intriguing member of her small team was a Sith Lord. He was dressed in immaculate light grey-white robes, had an almost aristocratic posture, eased into the warrior's way of being out of combat: legs slightly spread, hands on the back. His raven black hair combed away from his face, allowed one to give even more credit to his insanely attractive features. Which was not what I was waiting for, this mission would be terribly hard to finish, I did not have time for distraction.

Nonetheless I found myself stealing glances at him. Pureblood Sith, like me, with beautiful, feline, almond-shaped yellow eyes, and jewellery well chosen. Overall he breathed dignity and style. In such a way that you expected him to be leading us all, instead of standing there in a more obedient role. I knew of course why he was here. He used to be Darth Malgus’s apprentice. And I reckoned he took the fall for his masters betrayal, and his punishment consisting of serving on Makeb. As for me, I was here representing the Dark Council on behalf of Darth Marr, overseeing the harvest of Isotope-5

The way he introduced himself was even more extraordinary than the man himself, to this day I remember the exact wording:

 _“Lord Cytharat, tactical advisor. My life for you, my loyalty to the Empire_ ”. Those thirteen words were enough to change the course of my life. I tried to resist, at the same time I couldn't. At the “my life for you” part he looked me straight in the eye, and I felt a wave of heat colour my cheeks. Barely concealed invitation and innuendo was hidden there, as well as a quick mischievous smile that disappeared before he went to the second part of the sentence... How can anyone declare absolute loyalty while sounding so fiercely independent?

I won’t bother you with details about the mission. It is common knowledge, just as what happened to us afterwards is unfortunately common knowledge. I merely feel the need to explain myself, explain us, and have a chance at a normal life. My fellow Council members demand the truth, I am expected to face them soon. However: Truth, what is truth. I don’t think it exists. Ask two people about one and the same incident, and they will both provide a completely different version of what happened. Therefore I won’t be using the word. I rather keep it more personal, or more subjective if you like.

The choice I had in the matter was extremely complicated, even though I had only two options to choose from. My final choice is still the subject of heavy debate between Dark Council members, I won’t interfere. I won’t even try to change their point of view. They have to reach their conclusion and if they want me to take the fall for it, I will.

What I did was probably unforgivable: I chose to save him. And that is incomprehensible to the Dark Council, I chose to save the apprentice of a traitor over finishing an incredibly important mission. I do realise now that they have sent him to Makeb, hoping he would die, or fail, which would cost him his life anyway. That I interfered leaves them with a dilemma. I am one of their fellow Dark Council members, as well as a hero. They cannot just move me out of the way and therefore they cannot reach Cytharat.

He had been fighting alongside me, side by side, while I marvelled at his fighting skills. He and his team then went off, defending our way out, while I was supposed to do my magic. I made it outside, they were trapped and their numbers down to Cytharat with only two of his warriors.

Saving him was an subconscious decision, straight from my heart. I will never deny that, will never belittle my decision, will never say it was a mistake. It was a very selfish decision. That I agree to, yes. I couldn't bear the thought of him going up all alone against an entire army, and going down in flames. He would have sacrificed himself, he is such a person. I am not.

Neither am I a hero. The hero title was forced upon me after Corellia, but it never felt comfortable. So much in my life had been a lie. Nowhere a place to call home. Being a child I was never a child. Being young I was never young. Forcing myself to act as if falling in love with men was nothing more than a fling. Obeying the unwritten Sith laws to procreate, which fortunately didn't work, I simply couldn't perform the act. 

But I am wandering off, let's go back....

 _"Say the word, and I will be at your side"_ , he had said. But when he needed me, I nearly failed him...

I saved him. I went after him through that godforsaken place, my heart pounding in my chest, frantically fighting my way to him, scared he would not make it. He almost didn't. When I finally reached him he was terribly wounded. And then the wall between us finally came falling down. I took him in my arms, very cautiously, and kissed him. And took him to safety. And couldn't help but marvel at his dignity, even now, even while he was almost dying. I am sorry to say, but I tore up his beautiful robes to be able to reach his wounds and perform first aid. All the while hoping, praying...

He whispered that for my kiss alone he would have come to Makeb… Why didn't this happen earlier, it would have made such a difference. But I am as much to blame as he is. I could have stepped over this invisible barrier and told him what was in my heart, how I had fallen in love with him. I had not, and neither had he. And now we face the consequences of our dancing around each other, our sparring with what could perhaps be, our flirting if you like. My feeling of guilt has no end, not to the Empire although I failed it. No, first and foremost to him. Would I have sent him in there with his far too small army if he and I.....?

I like to think we would have gone in there together, as partners, as companions. I like to think we would have had each others backs. I would have heard his lightsaber hum. I would have conjured up lightning. We would have been invincible together.

He is still in hospital, but growing stronger by the day. Every spare moment I am at his side, travelling between the Sith Sanctum where the debate is ongoing, and him. I’d rather spend all my time with him. But I have a strong motive to pursue this. I want his redemption. Not for myself. He is a proud person, so extremely loyal to an Empire that doesn't deserve him. He never did anything wrong, never did anything that would jeopardize the Empire, or our mission. For that conviction and for him I fight.

If it were up to me alone, I’d take him away from Dromund Kaas, and bring him to a place where we would have a better chance. But I know that he probably would follow me, and his guilt and conscience would overtake him. I could never do that to him. After all: his life is for me, but his loyalty belongs to the Empire. I have to respect this. And I do, it’s not a flaw in him, it’s a strength. And I love him for it.

I have always considered myself a pragmatist. But lately I am wondering if I am not trying to hide the truth from myself. I am not such a loyalist. I am not even sure what side I am fighting for. I have seen many Jedi I would like to get to know better, and Sith I have grown to hate. I think the time has come to make a decision, unrelated to what the Dark Council will decide. Do I stay at Cytharat's side within the Empire, or do I leave the Dark Council and become an exile, and, as a logical consequence, leave him.

It is quiet in here, gossip and rumours can't reach it. To almost everyone saving a traitor's apprentice makes me a traitor, Dromund Kaas is a very small and narrow-minded city. I am tired, I want to be a person again, not the object of adoration or resentment.

My crew and servants guard the entrance, keeping everyone out but the doctors. I can think here, sit here, feeling like I can breathe again, staying out of sight, away from accusing glares and whispers. I am sitting in the dark, watching him, he’s asleep. My hand trails his lips, his jewellery, his hair. I have been alone for most of my life. I can be alone for many years more. I want to be with him, I know this is more than a slight infatuation. My heart is being torn apart. 

Suddenly I feel his eyes on me. His hand on mine. “Do not go, stay” he says quietly. I stand, covering my tearful eyes with my other hand, and try to leave. But he grabs my hand with an unforeseen steely grip. “Do not go Jen’ari", he persists. And finally I lose the battle, kneeling down beside him and burying my head against his chest. And feeling his hand stroke my hair, and hearing his voice caress me with the sibilant words of our common language.


	2. Jen'ari (Dark Lord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short interlude, we all need to sleep from time to time, and we need to be wide awake for chapter 3 where we will talk about our past. Because what are we without a past....

He is chanting in our native language. It's soothing, intoxicating. It brings me back home, to a happier time when I was too small to even realize the world existed of more than the red earth under my feet, and the little animals I liked to play with. The small pebbles I threw into the air under our red sun. How I used to watch children play together, trying to figure out how to make contact with them and forever failing. How I forced myself to be content by observing them. And suppressing the need to.. the need to..

I keep my head buried against his shoulder. Who knew he would finally bring me back home. Who knew I was going to be this shy in his presence. I do not want him to stop, I want to stay there, right there.

His fingers try to smooth out the tangled mess that is my hair, moving loose strands behind my ear. I like the feeling. They also softly touch and trail the scars on my head, but he doesn't say anything about those.

“How come you are so inhibited, _core wo_ (young one)”, he suddenly remarks, and then hesitant and almost inaudible: "and so sweet". He stays quiet for a moment, and I don't know how to reply. “It is certainly not what I expect in a fellow Sith... and most Dark Lords are ruthless”, he continues, lifting an eyebrow in slight amusement, smiling at me with his golden eyes. “You are so very different from who you seemed to be on Makeb.” That I can agree on. My aura of  invincibility has disappeared, as did my pompous words. He has peeled layer after layer of varnish and lies off me, leaving me almost naked. I remain silent, looking at his expressive slender fingers playing with the hem of my robe. “Jen’ari?” he asks. He uses the title as if it is my name, I like it. I have no words. I bend over and wrap my arms around myself.

Having my title, my armour, the army following me is a very efficient way to hide my true self. But being with him nothing is hidden, everything is in plain sight. The thought of him closing in on me frightens and elates me in a way that makes me all too confused. I want to disappear.

He senses my discomfort and reaches out. “I do not mean to upset you. You honoured me. by coming back to save me, and then you never left my side. I do remember you tending to me before the doctors arrived. I never thanked you for my life. You risked so much, and there will be repercussions. I am not used to such... attentiveness” He closes his eyes and then adds: “I feel vulnerable. What I want to say is: I think I am falling in love with you, _nu aki j’us_ ”.  
When he opens his eyes again they aren’t playful anymore. They too are vulnerable, as if he expects rejection, as if he, like me, has experienced nothing but rejection. There is an unspoken question in them, his hands are outstretched, an invitation. I take his hands in mine, and finally meet his eyes. And whisper: " _Nu aki j'us tsosûta_ , I love you too". I can hear his relieved trembling sigh.

There, I said it. I have never said it out loud before, to anyone. But now it is out in the open I repeat it. I love you. It feels like liberation. “I fell in love the moment I met you, but I was afraid that to you I was just… “

I stop talking, but the smile on his face makes me smile too. He gestures to his bed. “We cannot celebrate this joyful moment the way we should”, he remarks drily, “seeing the condition I am still in, but we can be together. I invite you to share my bed Jen’ari”. The hospital bed is too small, but I find a spot next to him, I cautiously wrap my arms around him and he cuddles up against me. I can feel and hear him hold his breath when our bodies touch, I slowly and carefully help him ease into me, knowing his wounds must hurt him, but he does not flinch. I revel in the warmth of his presence, of his slender but muscular form against me, of his hair tickling my nose. I wrap us in the covers, making sure he is not cold. After a minute I can sense him starting to fall asleep in my arms.

What is it with him. I cannot leave him. I could not leave him on Makeb, I cannot leave him here. “You had better not even consider it” he drowsily murmurs, and I sigh with exasperation.


	3. Ri drosar: The past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are having the inevitable, but difficult conversation about our past.  
> Why is Cytharat loyal to the Empire, why am I more drawn to the grey nothingness in the middle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past and every sinner has a future._  
>  (Oscar Wilde)

I wake up to the warm feeling of having him near me. Better even, having him rest against me. His hand is brushing my hip.

"Jen'ari, you are awake", he whispers. His hand keeps caressing me. "You better stop doing that", I say, "you are in no condition to continue what you are about to start". "I can feel", he smiles, his hand moving in between us. "Stop it, please!", I whisper urgently, and take his hand away. My breathing shallow, on the verge of a panic attack, damn, why does this happen now.

He moves around and cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. "This is not about me being wounded, it is about you being wounded", he says, alarmed. "Help me sit up, leaning against you, we need to talk" There's authority and sadness in his voice. I arrange the pillows around us and then very cautiously lift him in a half upright position against my chest, making sure lines and tubes do not get entangled, and rest his head on my shoulder. "Comfortable?" I ask. He nods absentmindedly.

"You must start to trust me, and open up to me" he starts. "I must know what happened to you, you will know what happened to me. I think it is worth the effort, don't you? Our past made us into who we are, where we are today. Maybe dealing with that same past will help us deal with the future". I want to reply, but I can't find the words. "Do not be afraid Jen'ari, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I will insist until you give in and open up to me". Who would have guessed he could be this stubborn. I could have perhaps, he was like this on Makeb too. So determined, so sure of himself.

"To make it easier for you I will talk about me first". I merely nod, not trusting my voice.

"I will tell you about my youth and about Darth Malgus, because you need to understand how the years I have spent as his apprentice have formed me, and how I am struggling to release myself from his grasp even now"

*

"I stem from a long line of warriors and rulers, diplomats and Darths, ambassadors and bureaucrats. Nobility yes, and it was expected of me to follow. A woman was selected for me, a marriage arranged. But I knew from early childhood that I was different. I liked reading, and drawing. I made friends with our slaves, fell in love with a slave boy."

"My parents abhorred it, me, they tried to mold me into the shape they would like me to be. They were ashamed of me. Yes, Sith can have their pleasure as long as it fits society. There is no peace, there is passion, but only if you fit in, if you are not openly being true to your passion.... But I could not bring myself to deny who I was, deny my own sexuality. My love for men was more than passing time between women, an extra means of passion. I longed for a companion, I saw my friends getting married, have children. My parents never invited me to meet their friends, they acted like I was invisible. It made me lonely to the core, but it also made me strong because I knew I wanted something different, better."

"I also resented the cruelty in our household, instead of participating I used to hide in my room covering my ears. My nights were haunted by the screams of pain I often heard. I felt powerless and I decided to act, to give myself a chance at a better life of my own choice. So, instead of marrying, I was able to persuade my parents to let me join the Sith Academy and become an apprentice to Darth Malgus, who was a friend of my father."

 "I have been fighting at his side, I have learned to kill in battle, which is very different from killing out of sheer pleasure. I was with him on Corellia, Alderaan, Coruscant, Ilum and Korriban, there are not many people around I came to know and like better than I liked him". I look at him in surprise, but keep quiet. "I know, he is a traitor and I condemn him for the treason, but I do not condemn the man. It is not a question of good or bad, it is somewhere in between. He never judged me, he saw my value as a warrior, and that was all that mattered to him. And that is how it should be. He gave me back something valuable, the feeling I was worthy."

While he speaks my fingers softly follow the lines of old scars on his body. They speak of many fights and injuries.

"I admired his strength, and his love for his wife, who was a slave by the way. She was as fierce a warrior as he was. In the end he killed her, and in turn it killed him. I saw his universe crumble and I knew I would go under with him. He was a torn man, swinging between his wish to do good and the dark side in him."

"In the end he didn't accept the Dark Council anymore and singlehandedly declared himself the new emperor. He was psychotic by then and delusional. For me it was too late to escape. Too many people knew I was his apprentice. They apprehended me and jailed me in Korriban. To give me the chance to redeem myself I was on temporary release to help secure the Isotope-5 on Makeb, and that is how you and I met. I never intended to leave the Empire, doing penance for his faults is a burden I took upon myself". "Still I don't think of him as evil. I don't think in extremes, extremes are dangerous. I am trying to combine what is necessary, even killing, with what is avoidable. If I can I will solve issues with diplomacy rather than with violence. Violence is not my passion, far from it"

There is more to it, I think, of course there is, but we don't need to lay down our entire lives in one morning. This, the most important, has been said now. It has opened up the possibility to talk about it again later.

*

"Now it is your turn, Jen'ari, tell me your dark secrets." I am nervously fidgeting the blankets. He takes my hands in his and gives me some comfort and waits patiently, while I struggle to find the words. He does nothing further to make it easier for me, but perhaps there is nothing to make it easy. I will have to face this today, and get through it one way or another.

I vowed never to think about what happened, let alone talk about it. As far as I am concerned my life began when I left the Academy and started my heroic missions around the Universe. But then this morning I remembered my childhood, it left me with an achingly empty feeling. And the all too familiar panic when someone is getting too close to me.

"Don't think, talk please" he softly urges me "speak out loud what you are thinking".  
"This morning you were singing to me the old nursery rhymes my mother used to sing. I banned thinking about my childhood and youth from my mind altogether, your singing brought it back full force. Her cooking. My sister and I eating, quarrelling. The warmth of our small house, of my mothers embrace and cuddling". My voice falters.

He turns around as good as he can, and caresses my cheek. "Go on please".

"The day they came I was outside playing with my sister, we were having a competition, who could throw pebbles the farthest away without using hands, we still had no word describing the force, but that's what we used.  
They unexpectedly raided our small quiet village and took everything away that used to be my life. Before my eyes my house crumbled and disappeared. They took my sister and my mother, and one of them held me tight. They made me look at..."  
An ugly sob escapes me. Please don't let me cry now, I can't breathe, I am embarrassed.

"Come lay down on my lap so I can comfort you while you talk" he says. I slide down on the bed and rest my head in his lap.

"I couldn't even bury them. They took me and sold me."

"So they were slavers", he whispers, "you were a slave".

"Yes, I was, and no matter what happened later, I never was free, never will be free. They were Sith, enslaving their own people and they gave me a new name. "A new name?" he interjects tensely, "what is that name?"  Quietly I reply: "z'kaina ra (unworthy)". I hear Cytharat draw in a sharp breath. "That is not a name Jen'ari, that is an insult! But please continue, I know there is more, what else happened to you", his hands are gentle, lovingly caressing my face, my back. His voice has icy steel in it. What a controversy, but I can sense that the ice cold edge in his voice is not meant for me.

"They sensed I had a preference for boys, men. As a child I had no means to defend myself, I couldn't yet put up a barrier in my mind to keep them out. It was torture, literally. A Sith took me away from the orphanage I was in at that time, and brought me home. I was grateful, but that only lasted a few minutes. He raped me, and he continued to do so until I joined the Sith Academy. He did, his friends did. I don't want to talk anymore, oh please stop, please stop?" I am trembling uncontrollably, trying to run away, I am suffocating, I need to seek shelter.

"SShhh Jen'ari, I am here, no one can hurt you", he says, holding me, softly whispering words of comfort..

*

"You knew, didn't you?" I say when I finally am able to get a grip on myself again.

"I knew. And I did not even have to use the force", he says, "it was clear as daylight, all your pain is etched in your face and on your body".

"If you knew then why did you make me talk about it"

"Because Jen'ari, your silence has not helped you forget, nor has it helped you heal. I can see it in you, I did the minute I got to know you. I will help you put up better defences. Remember who you are, you have come so far and you are not that little boy anymore. We will find a way to fight this together. Because you are not alone. I am here."


	4. Ri rodyti: The present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to face the Dark Council

Staring through the window of my apartment high above Dromund Kaas's void. It's raining, how fitting.

*

I spoke with Darth Marr earlier. He asked me to take my seat at the Council for a final meeting later today. "I heard you have brought him to your apartment from the hospital", he said, scanning my face. "I did, he will be staying with me until we know what will happen", I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Apparently he means more to you than just your average sith lord?" There was the question in his voice. "He does", I admitted, and facing him: "I love him".  
There was no way of knowing how he would take this news. The mask hides all of his facial expressions. But: "Then I hope for the both of you the outcome will be positive", was all he said.

*

I hear the rustle of his robes behind me. Before I can turn, his arms are around me, his head against my shoulder. I wrap an arm around him and pull him to me, his slender frame... How can one so slim be so powerful, I remember the steady hum of his lightsaber while we were fighting off enemies back to back. My lightning kept my adversaries at a comfortable distance, his though forced themselves very close to him, but never too close, His lightsaber like an extension of his arm, his shield an impenetrable castle. My formidable fighter, and so elegant, his lithe body dancing from enemy to enemy...

He leans into my embrace, kissing my shoulder and resting his head there. I smile, pull him closer to me and kiss him. Burying my nose in his hair I admire the softness of it.

*

My mind is with this afternoon's meeting, I am absently going through the motions of dressing myself.  
"We will be fine, young Padawan" Cytharat says mockingly and despite myself I have to smile.  
"Says the devoted Empire lover" I tease.

He observes me: "You will need new robes Jen'ari, the one you are wearing is threadbare". I look at myself and then at him. Perhaps yes, compared to him everyone looks like a beggar.... "If you let me, Jen'ari, I will ask my tailor to make you a new robe". I like my old robe, it fits me well, but if it makes him happy I am more than willing to try. "Yes, Cytharat, I would like that".

*

It's remarkable how fast he is recovering now he is allowed out of hospital, his strength is returning and he proves it by suddenly jumping and in one motion pushing me onto the bed. I am completely taken by surprise. He straddles me, pinning me down. "Do not worry Jen'ari, nothing will happen, I just want to kiss you", he says. He bends over and kisses me, passionately, our tongues making love the way I would like the rest of my body to do, but still cannot. I can feel how much he wants me, but he has assured me that it will come, that I need to be patient and give myself time. But I cannot help but wondering if he will have the patience he says he has. What if he finds a willing man for a quick... What if I never recover?

I want to make love to him, I want him to take me to a peaceful place and teach me. I want to learn how to enjoy.

"You will learn to enjoy, you will recover, we will make love and I will bring you to ecstatic heights" he says, again invading my mind. Shielding my thoughts is an art I have learned over time, but in his presence I forever fail. The strange part of it is that I do not seem to mind. "I have patience for the both of us", he continues, "not with everyone, but with you I have patience, do not ever doubt that. Do not insult me by thinking I would want another man. I love you and I am faithful. I know men like us are often engaged in more relationships the same time, but other men are not this man.  Yes, I want you and not just your fine mind, I want to make love to you, I lust for you, but my love is far stronger than my lust!" His eyes are ablaze. I want to apologize, but he does not give me a chance. I close my eyes and let him kiss me again, and again.

*

"You are my tactical advisor" I say, "can you help me deal with todays ordeal?"  
"It takes a better man than I am", he replies. "I advised you on Makeb, and today we will hear the judgement of my mistakes".  
"There are no better men than you" I reply, surprised. "And besides, it was my mistake, not yours".  
"Jen'ari, you made no mistake, you made a choice. Perhaps it was not such a conscious choice, but it was a choice. You followed your heart and your passion, you need to come to terms with it".

*

Walking through Dromund Kaas feels like a nightmare. I never thought it would take this long to walk such a short distance. My thoughts are with Cytharat, probably watching me from my apartment, seeing the insignificant ant I must be from that distance. It has been him trying to talk courage into me this whole morning, while it should have been the other way around.  
The Council Chambers look empty, which is of course not very surprising. We are currently counting five members only, while the Council should count twelve. Being a Council member is a hazardous job, we die like flies, I honestly do not understand why Darths from all of the universe tumble over each other in their ambition to get a seat. And on top of that: the most ambitious Darths are by definition the most unsuitable.

Correction: I do have respect for Darth Marr, but he is the only one.

The one I fear the most concerning Cytharats redemption, is Darth Nyriss. She is ruthless, and she's truly Dark. She has no compassion and you know exactly what to expect from her by only taking one quick look at her. She has the same preference in the force that I have, perhaps there is a small opening for me to reach out to her. She loves lightning in all its forms, just as I do, and she is as apt in combining lightning and force as I am.

Darth Zavakon is probably the one easiest to convince to give Cytharat a second chance. Unfortunately he is also deemed the weakest of us. He's more of a librarian and I can assure you: librarians are not exactly wielders of the greatest power, to my dismay...

I take my seat after pouring myself a glass of water, and prepare myself for the longest afternoon in my Council history

It stays awfully quiet though, and I start pacing the room nervously, repeating time and again the speech I have written and learned by heart. Then finally Darth Marr enters, but he is alone.  
"Imperius, Dark Lord", he adresses me. I bow. I am silent.  
"I have decided to overrule all members of the Dark Council" he surprisingly says. He can do that, it just doesn't happen very often.  
"Lord Cytharat seems genuine in his will to redeem himself and pay for his masters crimes" he continues. "He has spent a long time in Korriban jails, and he has proven his worth on Makeb trying to secure the isotope-5. I believe it was you, Imperius, who in the end made a terrible mistake, and not Cytharat. Therefore I have decided to grant him his freedom, provided that he will be an apprentice to you. Both you and he will return to Makeb to see what can be saved from the Isotope disaster. Do not make the mistake of failing me again".

His entire speech I have been standing there gaping at him, this is not what I had been expecting at all.

He looks at me and then adds one line:  
"And shut your mouth, you look incredibly stupid".


	5. Ri irsûrsi: The future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems like suddenly and unexpectedly we have a shimmer of hope to a future together, provided of course that we finish our Makeb job. Both of us are not sure we can, we do not need to speak out our doubts, we can feel this in the other.
> 
> We have to journey back to Makeb. Both of us are not looking forward to it, the place holds bad memories for us.  
> We are packing a bag and say goodbye to our apartment for hopefully a little while.
> 
> _"I liken you, my darling, to a mare_  
>  _among Pharaoh’s chariot horses._  
>  _Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings,_  
>  _your neck with strings of jewels._  
>  _We will make you earrings of gold,_  
>  _studded with silver."_  
>   
>  **(Solomon's Song of Songs)**  
> 

Cytharat knew the outcome of the Council meeting before I opened my mouth. He said he didn't need to read me at all: "Jen'ari, your baffled expression says more than a thousand thoughts."  
I walked into the room and sat down, staring at my hands for a long time, while he sat opposite me, his hands on my knees. We were silent together. His eyes scanning my face, waiting calmly for my eyes to meet his.

"Makeb, of all places" I sigh.  
"Makeb, the place where I met you, Dark Lord", he retorts smiling.  
I: "Where you almost died."  
He: "Where you found the courage to kiss me".  
I: "You, Sir, are an incorrigible optimist."  
He: "Jen'ari, you honour me, and you, Sir, are an incorrigible pessimist".

"Come", he takes me by the hand. "Today is not a day to be sad, or to pack our bags. Today is a day for us alone, let us enjoy this day. After all, I have been given my freedom. Serving you is all the freedom I need and want"  
I am quiet, I am curious what he is planning, and he IS planning something, I can sense it.

Also he seems nervous, a trait, I suddenly realise, I have never before seen in him. His normal self is composed, proud. He disappears into our bedroom, leaving me bewildered behind.

*

When he comes out again he is dressed in the most beautiful robe I have ever seen him in. It is white, high collar, as usual, and delicate lace covering the heavy silk. His sleeves almost touch the ground. I am speechless, he looks stunning, beautiful. His eyes, so golden and proud, shine. He seems suddenly so delicate. Breathtakingly attractively delicate. And shy. I want to hold him, kiss him, I take one step towards him.

He bows before me. "Jen'ari. Allow me to surprise you".  
In his outstretched hand are two rings.  
His eyes meet mine.  
"Jen'ari. We do not know how this journey will end, how many journeys will follow. For as long as we live, I would like you to be mine."  
Then he smiles, and kisses me. "Did I mention you are required to reply to this proposal?", he adds, trying to sound playful, but there is an edge to his voice

Thus far I have been completely speechless.

My mind races in about a thousand directions, none of them lead to anything useful to reply. I have been living amidst so much darkness in my life, been so hopelessly lost. Can I reach this ray of light? Can it save me from myself? Can he?  
I find no words, but I take his hand, stroke his wrist, admire his beautiful robe.  
I nod.

"Can I take that as confirmation?" His voice reaches me as through a thick cloud. I need to sit down or I will faint.  
And then he is behind me and catches me. "It is, it is", I whisper. "Yes, yes please". I turn around just in time to see his charismatic smile, with an unexpected softness in his usually fiercely shining eyes. 

_*_

"Come Jen'ari. We will make this official. We will out tonight, walk there together, the weather is beautiful".  
We walk through Dromund Kaas. He takes my hand and holds it tightly. His inner strength enough to support us both. He channels his immeasurable pride, his absolute faith in us, and his fierce independence through to me. It makes me blind to the judging crowd. Deaf to their whispers. I only have eyes for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to add one more chapter to this fifth one. It didn't feel complete.


	6. Won (Free)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last evening before we return to Makeb. It is also the last short chapter of this story.  
> ***  
>  _"My beloved spoke and said to me,_  
>  _“Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me._  
>  _See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone._  
>  _Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land._  
>  _The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance._  
>  _Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.”_  
>  **Solomon's Song of songs**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may rightfully tell me that it is not so easy as I make it sound, to cure someone in 800 words and in one evening. Of course I know , perhaps I even know better than most of you realize. Then why do I write it? 
> 
> Oh, there are so many reasons, I can give you a few:  
> \- Poetic licence  
> \- Using the force to have sex or meet someone is not realistic either  
> \- I myself needed a somewhat happy ending  
> \- You can think of a few more reasons yourself

My head rests on its favourite place: his chest. I love to hear the beat of his heart, I love to hear his steady breathing, it calms me, 

We are tired, it has been a long day. Tomorrow the journey to Makeb awaits us.

“Jen’ari, I want to try something”. I look up, surprised. “I want you to come and meet someone”. I must have looked extremely confused because he starts laughing and adds: “invade me Jen’ari, use your force”.

That is new! Although he has made it a fine habit of invading my – to him - not so shielded mind, he has not let down his guard yet.

“And I will do the same, you will like it, it feels good”, he laughs again, anticipation suddenly making him eager, I can sense it.

“Close your eyes”.

*

A cacophony of colours and sounds and images, a labyrinth of thoughts, fragments, pain and pleasure, run past in a whirlwind.

And then I suddenly find myself in a corridor, with many huge doors, and I am a little boy and cannot reach the knob to open them. At the end of the corridor is another door, ajar. There is music coming from that door, I can hear a child’s voice singing. I open the door.

A little boy sits on the floor, he is playing. An abundance of black curls and the brightest yellow eyes are greeting me. “Come play with me”, he beckons me. Hesitantly I enter the room. The room has huge windows, all open, outside is a tree, with birds in it.

The little boy sits in the middle of the room, following me with his eyes.

“It is a very safe room” he says gravely, “no harm will come to you here”. He waits patiently for me to sit down next to him.

“Here is paper, here, a pencil”. We sit in silence and make drawings. His are all birds, and flowers, and one of me. He can draw well, it really looks like me. My drawings are of a red sun and red earth. I try to draw him, but it doesn’t look like him. He looks at it and giggles, and then I have to laugh too. He kisses me on the cheek. I hold my hand to my cheek in surprise. It was nice, I do the same to him.

“Can you do this?” I ask. I take my two pebbles from the pocket of my pants and give him one. “Can you throw it into the air without using your hands?”.

He nods. “Let us see who can throw them out the window?” We try, and try, the window is too far, but we do manage to lift the pebbles and let them float in the air.

And then there is nothing more to say. I look at the little boy, and I kiss him again. “I have to go home”.

“From now on my home is also your home, this room is your room, this tree is your tree, and the birds are yours too”, the boy says. “If you want to come here, you now know how to find it, you can come here as often as you like”.

*

I do not wish to open my eyes. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. His arms are around me, he doesn't say anything. I feel his shields are still down, I am back in our apartment but also at the safe place he built me. I reach out to him there, enlacing him in my most loving way, thanking him in a way only the force can. I can sense everything in him and it feels good.

*

“Jen’ari, I want us to do this again, but for different reasons”, he says quietly, holding me tight. “I want you and me to join our minds while I will try to make love to you. If it does not work, we will be patient and try again later”.

I nod, hesitantly. I trust him, yet panic and fear are never far away.

“You are with me, you know who I am,” he smiles.

Again that sensation of falling and at the same time being sucked in by a maelstrom. And then suddenly a very different image. It has scents, and colours, liquids. And there he is, he is drinking from a mug, something that smells heavenly. “Here, this one is for you”, he says, and hands me a mug too. It tastes even better. There are the spices I love, cinnamon, cardamom, rosemary, like his hair, just like the scent of his hair, so fragrant, so familiar, so... safe... He is there, so close to me I can almost touch him. My minds fingers trail his hair, his face, I bury myself in him, we become  one. Our minds melting together. His yellow and my red eyes glowing orange. "Now come back to our bed", he softly whispers, "it is time".

And while we keep the connection open, our minds intertwined in an embrace, I am back. I lift my head and meet his lips. And kiss him passionately.

“Just give in to the feeling”, he says, “it is a good feeling, I will make sure nothing will happen to you”.

I give in.

His hands and mouth are everywhere, exploring, touching. His body joining mine in a slowly controlled, increasingly paced rhythm. All the while his protective grip on my mind continues. He is restraining himself, using all of his force to keep me safe, and all of his energy to give me pleasure.

And then our minds and bodies melt together in a tornado of incoherent images, releasing in every sense of the word. Gasping and powerful. And we break the connection.

*

He drops by my side, utterly exhausted. I take his head between my hands and kiss him. “Thank you, thank you!”

“We will do this as often as you like Jen’ari, until you feel safe enough to do it without”, he mumbles, half asleep. He curls up against me.

I take him in my arms, my head resting on his hair. I am listening to his calm breathing.

*

Had someone told me I would need two hearts because one heart would not be big enough for all the love I could feel, that it would overflow, I would not have believed it.

But it is true.

It does.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler for some SW:TOR content from KotFE
> 
> Reading [Silverr's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/silverr/pseuds/silverr) beautiful Cytharat story triggered me finally into writing one myself.  
> Also like Silverr I never was really interested in diving into the whole Makeb controversy around SGR discussion, as I personally don't think it's particularly interesting. Also, as all controversies, it usually ends up in a black and white discussion, and it left the for me most important things unsaid.
> 
> I want to add a huge thank you to the persons responsible for adding SGR content to Makeb, and in particular for the people responsible for Cytharat. He/they created a wonderful character, created with a lot of love and eye for detail.
> 
> Contrary to the new SGR 'heroes' in KotFE, who are all bisexual, Cytharat was homosexual pur sang, and I wish that we would have a real gay romance-able character in SW:TOR again... I miss him, even though he was there for only about an hour..... 
> 
> As I said, In KotFE, Lana, Koth and Theron are all bisexual, Lana and Koth in my eyes are dual (is that the right expression?), meaning that I do not have the right feeling while romancing them as either male or female character. Theron is more like the gay man I am said to be, distant, hard to get to know. But more than the other two I mentioned, Theron in my eyes is truly homosexual, and I have problems envisioning him with a woman. 
> 
> No one however in the SW:TOR universe comes as close to the depth of a homosexual character as Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age Inquisition. I honestly was amazed romancing him. He has depth, and wit, is lovable on so many levels, and tragic on so many levels as well. His creator did a damn good job.
> 
> But I am slowly sidetracking myself. Let's get back to Cytharat :)
> 
> And thank you Silverr for your story.


End file.
